


To Look and to See

by merpprem



Series: Harry Potter's Attempts at Botching Tom Riddle's Love Confessions [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: DADA Class, Dorks in Love, Duelling, Fluff, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Attend Hogwarts Together, M/M, Oblivious Harry Potter, Professor Merrythought is Cool, Protective Tom Riddle, Romance, Tom Riddle is a Closet Sweetheart, Tom Riddle's Subtle Flirting, preslash, 中文翻译 | Translation in Chinese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merpprem/pseuds/merpprem
Summary: Harry liked Professor Merrythought, and he absolutely adored taking her class, DADA. However, it stopped becoming as enticing as it was before when Merrythought announces that they'll be doing mock duelling today.."Mr. Riddle and Mr. Potter, please come to the front.”Perhaps today was Harry’s birthday because she seemed so adamant in giving him the gift of cardiac arrest.Chinese Translation by Otteon availablehere.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Series: Harry Potter's Attempts at Botching Tom Riddle's Love Confessions [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745488
Comments: 46
Kudos: 829





	To Look and to See

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to the third part of the series! I hope you all are doing well! <3 
> 
> The word count on this one got quite out of hand... oops. I didn't mean to, I swear, but Harry's a babbler. *shrugs helplessly* It's not much on the comedy side, either, but hey, I guess it's kinda counterintuitive to turn Harry's insecurity to crack hehe 
> 
> Not much happens on the romantic bit, it's basically five thousand words with only a centimetre of progress to show for it oop, but! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this piece!
> 
> Also, spot the Mulan reference!

Harry was sitting beside Ron and Hermione, strangely patient as he waited for class to begin. It was their last period of the day, which normally would turn the already naturally impatient Harry into a restless, leg jiggling and finger tapping mess. After all, _after_ class was his favorite part of the school day, because the last ringing of the bell and the dipping of afternoon suns were only associated with one thing in the rather energetic Gryffindor’s head: Quidditch practice. However, there was one very special case where Harry wasn’t salivating for the feeling of the wind whipping through his hair and bugs flying into his mouth while he barked commands at his team, and that was when his final class was with Professor Merrythought.

Professor Merrythought wasn’t one to play favorites. She treated every student in her class equally, yet not unkindly. She never gave too much praise to anyone no matter how excellently they performed, and she had yet to reprimand a student more than need be. It was a great part of the reason why Harry respected the formidable ex-duellist so much, and another reason why Harry’s favorite class was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Which was why Harry was so honest to Merlin shell shocked when she called him out.

Professor Merrythought walked in the exact moment when the bell rang, her sleek brown hair hanging immaculately down her back. Her eyes, wrinkled not by age but by years of battle, swept through the entire class once before she cleared her throat. Harry leaned in with an eagerness that put Hermione’s excitement at Scrivenshaft’s 50% off sales to shame. 

“Good afternoon, class. I trust that you all have accomplished the essays that were assigned to you last week?”

“Yes, Professor,” chorused the class, and Harry the incredibly overenthusiastic DADA student, was one of the few people who even nodded a bit. Funnily enough, from his position, he could see Vincent Crabbe turn a rather unflattering and frankly worrying shade of gray at her words. _Tsk tsk. What an irresponsible student_ , Harry thought as he shoved away the memory of Professor Snape assigning him detention for turning in his essay late just last week.

… What? He thought Snape meant 8:00 AM the next day, not 8:00 PM _that day._ It wasn’t exactly his fault, Professor Snape really needed to work on his communication skills. The bat-like professor simply announced that the deadline was “8 o’clock sharp, you either come to my office or come even closer to failing”. Never mind the fact that even Ron knew he meant 8:00 PM because according to him, “even _I_ can write a paragraph on the Hair-Raising Potion in less than an hour, no way Snape would give us _eighteen._ ”

“Excellent, kindly bring them out and place them on your desks. The excitement of today’s lesson may have led to many of you forgetting to turn it in.” At this, some of the Gryffindors began murmuring excitedly, while most of the Slytherins even raised their eyebrows in curiosity. Professor Merrythought waited for everyone to settle down, before waving her wand sharply and summoning all their essays to form a neat pile on the shelf beside the door. “This is because today will be the first session of our mock duels.” 

Ah… well, _now_ Harry wanted nothing more than to go flying, no matter if flying meant on his broomstick or out the temptingly open tower window. 

It wasn’t as if Harry disliked the practical side of DADA, it was actually the part he looked forward to the most. Harry was just a tad bit unsure of where he stood with his peers, and if he had to be honest with himself, his Gryffindor pride may never recover if someone like Goyle could get the upper hand on him. 

Some of his yearmates seemed to have similar thoughts, because after a half-second of stunned silence, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike burst into a mix of incredulous whispers, indignant complaints and excited shouts.

“B-but, Professor! We weren’t aware that mock duels were happening today!” stuttered Lavender with her eyes wide, gesturing wildly in the air while Dean and Seamus were whooping triumphantly. 

“No theory lectures, which means no homework!”

“Bugger, I think I’m gonna be sick…” Harry heard someone whisper. He hoped it wasn’t Neville. 

“Bloody hell!” Millicent Bulstrode exclaimed, dropping all pretenses of upholding proper pureblood decorum and looking absolutely delighted at the idea. Harry subconsciously inched a little farther away from her, knowing that she was probably just ecstatic at the fact that she may have a go at jinxing one of the Gryffindors into Madam Pomfrey’s vicious care. “They’re letting us duel, Draco!”

To his left, Ron groaned and slouched into his seat. “Just before Quidditch practice too,” he muttered glumly, while Hermione straightened her already stiff as a board back. 

The murmurs continued to grow louder, almost reaching a crescendo before Professor Merrythought raised a commanding hand. The classroom fell back into silence immediately. “I understand many of you want the chance to raise your concerns or react violently, but I can assure you that in the real world, you will find that not many are interested in indulging you.” She flicked her wand, the stick of white chalk twitching from the ledge before jolting into the air and positioning itself in front of the board. 

“There are three things you need to remember all throughout a duel. One,” Harry tried not to think about his rotten luck and the high chances of him being one of the people chosen for mock duels that day. He focused on the rather pretty loops in the charmed chalk stick’s letters, idly thinking about which of those loops would be the most dangerous to try on his broom. “The duellists bow before they begin as a sign of respect, right before they adopt the first stance. On the mediator’s count to three, they shall begin. In the absence of a mediator, the duellists may continue right after they assume first position.” 

Harry wondered why Hermione was writing so furiously on a sheet of parchment. Perhaps she thought that any last minute notes on what to do _before_ a duel could ultimately serve as a secret weapon in dishing out the unlucky sod that happened to be her opponent.

“Two, _all spells_ are useful when used correctly or imaginatively. Can anyone give me a concrete example?” A couple of students lifted their hands. _Incredible,_ Harry inwardly oohed as Hermione managed to raise her hand while her head was still bowed, right hand _still_ scribbling away at the piece of parchment. “Yes, Mr. Riddle?”

“Transfiguring items in the vicinity can help distract or impede the opponent.” Harry’s eyes flicked to the side, following the way Riddle fluidly sat back down as Professor Merrythought nodded. Harry scowled. What kind of proper teenager used the words “vicinity” and “impede”? His grumbling was quickly hushed by a mental image of Hermione. Well, at least Hermione’s voice didn’t sound like melting dark chocolate. 

Yes, that was supposed to be an insult. To Riddle, not Hermione. Riddle.

“That is correct. Many spells can be applied to the duelling ground, whether they appear harmless or not. Creativity and magical prowess are of equal importance. Third, it is dishonorable to harm an opponent that is either disarmed or turned away from you. This may seem obvious to many of you, but why exactly is this so? Yes, Ms. Patil?”

“Uh, it’s because the aim of a duel is not so much as harming the opponent, but rather, disarming them, right?” Wow, Bulstrode must be sulking at that gentle reminder to not maim her peers.

“Correct, Ms. Patil, but please answer with more confidence in the future. I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Parvati blushed, and Harry couldn’t blame her. Professor Merrythought wasn’t exactly stingy with her compliments, but coming from someone like her, well, it was something special. 

Harry fleetingly thought of Riddle’s approving gaze but banished the image before he could figure out why. He snuck a look at the Slytherin in question, who had his hands clasped on his desk. Like Harry, he wasn’t writing down any notes. 

_Notes?_ Harry blinked and looked around, mildly panicking when he realized that everybody else but _him and Riddle_ were writing down notes. Harry wasn’t a studious student who panicked every time he didn’t catch the number of times Professor McGonagall said “magical theory” and compared it to the times she said “magical postulates” instead, but when even Dean and Seamus were popping open ink bottles, it’s gotta be for a reason, right? _What the fuck, what the fuck,_ Harry’s mind panicked as he fumbled around his bag for a quill. 

“Now, clear your desks and we shall begin.” Of course, just as he found the quill. He slipped it back into his pocket and sighed, defeatedly slouching in his seat while literally everyone but him (and Riddle) packed away their things. There was nothing on his desk to pack away, after all. As chairs and desks rearranged themselves to hug the wall as much as they could, Harry deliberately wasted his brain cells thinking about stupid things like notes not even worth half a page. He didn’t feel uneasy at first, though, because at least there was one other person who didn’t think it was worth wasting parchment over. 

Then he remembered it was star student Tom Riddle who probably didn’t even _need_ to write things down in class.

 _I mean, we already know it, so why do we have to write it down?_ agonized Harry, although he let go of it pretty easily after huffing out a breath. He could always ask Hermione what she found important enough to write, although Harry was probably better off asking Neville. Knowing Hermione, she probably thought that the exact contractions Professor Merrythought used were important.

“Excellent, let us now proceed. Mr. Riddle and Mr. Potter, please come to the front.” 

Perhaps today was Harry’s birthday because she seemed so adamant in giving him the gift of _cardiac arrest._

It was quiet again. Professor Merrythought really, really had a knack for shutting her students up. Harry bet that not even Snape could inspire this much discipline in his students, but then again, the kind of silence achieved in DADA was not necessarily because they were playing obedient, it was mostly because Merrythought was always, _always_ pulling the figurative rug under their feet and sending them sprawled on their arses. While Snape shut them up through fear, Merrythought shut them up through shock and a growing sense of dread that made Harry feel like a fucking rabbit falling in a pit of snakes.

Merrythought can go shove that “no favoritism” thing she's got going for her back in the bin. She obviously hated his guts for sending him in with Riddle of all people. 

The devil himself was acting all suave and shit, angelically tilting his head to the side before standing up and gliding towards Merrythought’s desk. Nope, this arrangement was not fair, Merrythought wasn’t fair, and the way Riddle bloody moved wasn’t fair either. Harry wasn’t thinking particularly merry thoughts about Merrythought and didn’t bother to hide whatever gobsmacked expression was probably on his face right now. He probably looked like he was sulking as he followed Riddle’s example and approached the tall woman.

Why was Harry making such a big deal out of this, one may ask? Well, firstly, he was against _Riddle._ Harry got rather decent grades, but everyone knew that Riddle got _the_ grades, the best ones, and his only rival in intellect was Hermione. Secondly, the first pair in Defense was always the pair that ended up getting the most attention. Harry felt everyone’s eyes drift in between him and Riddle, searing holes deep into his back and Merlin, the view out the window was quite nice, wasn’t it?

“Potter?” Harry didn’t need to look up from his staring contest with his shoes to know that no one else could hear Riddle except him. He still chose not to reply to his indirect question, jaw clenching and uncertain if his classmates were even breathing. He couldn’t hear anything else besides Riddle’s voice, their footsteps and the pounding of his heart.

_Was it always this cramped in Merrythought’s classroom?_

“Potter, Riddle, you will be the first pair for today’s mock duels. I trust that the two of you will set a stellar example to the rest of the class.” Harry almost choked on his bile. _Ah, wait, I think I got it. Maybe Riddle’s the_ stellar example _of what everyone else is_ supposed _to do, while I’m just the stellar example of what not to do. Bloody hell._ “Please understand that while I do not express it clearly, I am pleased to see how passionate you both are about my subject. I am most excited to see the duel between my two top students. Do not disappoint me, young men.” 

“Understood, Professor Merrythought.” Harry was only partially listening, but he quickly snapped out of his reverie upon hearing Riddle’s velvety voice. Rich in self-assurance, rich in power, the complete opposite of Harry’s own murmured reply. 

“Yes, Professor.” _Stop looking at me._ Harry’s feet didn’t look like they were flat on the floor from Harry’s view. He shook his leg a little, his palms turning a little sweaty. _Stop looking at me._

“Very well, please proceed to the opposite sides of the classroom. Worry not, I shall set up a shield to protect the other students from wayward spells.” Professor Merrythought allowed herself a smile, and woah, Harry hadn’t seen her smile since the start of fifth year, and it was a little reassuring to see his teacher look so unworried. 

Harry still thought that he was gonna lose, though. 

“Do your best.” 

Harry’s eyes widened before narrowing in confusion and flicking to catch Riddle’s indiscernible stare. He was looking at him with that irritating smirk of his, but his eyes were sharper, alert, and his fingers were drumming inaudibly against his thigh. 

He remembered the earlier banished image of Riddle looking at him without his usual Slytherin smirk, stripped of all his pride and condescending nature, looking at him with something akin to approval. He felt a strong urge to punch him right then and there.

Harry gripped his wand tightly. No, Harry wasn’t looking for approval. The air suddenly felt ten times lighter as Harry brandished his wand out of his pocket. His magic hummed under his skin, the world coming into focus as he steeled himself, a small flame of something undefined lighting in his chest.

What did Harry really want? 

“You too.”

Riddle might be a prodigy, but even if Riddle was practically the second coming of Christ, Harry was a stubborn bastard who didn’t know when to call it quits. _Fuck it._

As Harry bowed, his head cleared. His right leg stepped back, mirroring Riddle’s figure from all across the room. He inhaled deeply. 

“Three, two, one. Begin!” And exhaled.

 _“Expelliarmus!”_ Riddle wasted no time, the red streak of light sailing towards Harry from across the room. _Wow, talk about a cliche start_ _._ Harry stepped aside. 

_“Confringo!”_ Riddle lunged forward and didn’t even wait for the explosion to settle, casting two jinxes before he landed on the ground into a roll. Harry brought up a weak shield charm to absorb the two jinxes. _“Colloshoo!”_ Harry, taking advantage of Riddle needing time to recover from his roll, stuck Riddle’s shoes to the ground. _Oh, wow, Riddle. Fancy shoes,_ Harry commented in his head as he noticed the rather simple but classical style of black Oxfords. But the Prefect didn’t waste time in trying to free himself as Harry thought he would, and instead shouted out,

 _“Bombarda!”_ Riddle aimed at his feet and Harry yelped, hurriedly pointing at himself. 

_“Ascendio!”_ Before the electrifying ball of light hit the floor and created a rather large explosion, Harry was already high up in the air. He gritted his teeth, his body faster than his mind as he raised his wand and yelled, _“Ventus!”_

Riddle, who had already broken free of the previous jinx, casted a strong shield that rebounded the column of wind that Harry had summoned. Harry’s back hit the wall. Talk about backfire. _“Verdimillious!”_ Green sparks shot from Riddle’s wand, aimed at Harry’s shoulder. Harry hurriedly cut off the Ascending Charm and landed on the floor with one knee down, effectively dodging Riddle’s spells. _“Incendio!”_ Harry hissed as he dodged incorrectly, feeling the flame singe his cheek. Two non-verbal purple hexes followed him as he continued to move around the classroom. He jumped on Merrythought’s desk and tried to cast an Impediment Jinx at Riddle, who merely deflected it. 

Riddle was too bloody quick. Harry had no choice but to non-verbally pull up a shield to try and match his speed, grimacing as the harshness of his spells strained his outstretched arm. Riddle’s non-verbal spells didn’t even seem that weak compared to his verbal ones, which was highly impressive. 

Well, Harry was faster in other ways. 

_“Lumos maxima!”_ He briefly blinded the moving Slytherin as he jumped to the side. He got off just as Riddle cut Merrythought’s thankfully cleared desk in half. _Oops, sorry Professor,_ Harry grimaced again. _“Avis!”_ A flock of birds flew from the tip of his wand and zoomed to attack Riddle with their beaks. Knowing that Riddle knew it was best to cancel the spell instead of dodging, Harry ran after the birds. Riddle’s line of sight cleared as he cancelled the spell, his eyes widening as he was was immediately attacked by a Harry Potter charging at him with his wand outstretched. _“Impedimenta!”_ Harry yelled, eyes narrowing as Riddle ducked and slid out of the way. He shot another hex but it only scraped Riddle's leg. The ground shook, and Harry gasped as the wooden floors groaned around him, the floorboards cracking before splinters shot at him from all sides. Harry jumped out of the way, the splinters and wooden fragments crashing against each other. As he landed on the floor painfully, Harry blanched as he felt water soak his robes through, slowing him down. 

_What in the hell? Circe, the motherfucking bastard flooded the DADA classroom!_

Not wanting to risk getting impaled by the still fluttering pieces of wood, Harry burned them before shooting the little fireballs straight at Riddle. 

_“Glacius!”_ Riddle shouted, the water at their feet forming a crescent shape before freezing around Riddle, the fireballs colliding with the ice and breaking his protective wave into pieces. Riddle sent the damaged icy shards back at him.

 _Fuckity fuck. Fuck this a hundred times. “Finestra!”_ the glassy ice shards shattered. _“Arresto momentum!”_

_“Flipendo!”_

Both duellists managed to dodge the spells, but Harry had non-verbally cast an _Incarcerous_ as well. It hit Riddle, ropes spinning around his figure in intricate knots. Harry wasn’t surprised when the ropes simply burned away around Riddle within a fraction of a second. Riddle whipped to face him and with twisted lips, sent a barrage of Cutting Curses at Harry. Harry tried to swerve out of the way, but there were too many and he cried out as some managed to cut through his robes. 

Harry slipped in the water with a scream that he muffled with his fist, his shoulder taking the brunt of his fall. Swearing, he levitated the remains of Professor Merrythought’s table and blindly hurled it at Riddle, stumbling to his feet. Riddle stepped out of the way as Harry cast a feather-light charm at his own robes, easing his movement marginally. When Riddle saw that the water no longer impeded his movements, he impatiently vanished it.

Riddle conjured some arrows and began shooting them, advancing slowly but surely as Harry was forced to draw back. _Why arrows, the drama queen._ Harry tried to bring up a shield charm, but couldn’t afford to put more power behind the spell, and it was dismantled by Riddle pretty easily. He was breathing heavily, and Riddle didn’t look too hot either, sweat dripping down his brow as he sent four arrows in quick succession. One hit his sleeve and sent him flying, pinning him to the wall. Usually, Harry would be a bit more careful with his robes, but the glint in Riddle’s eyes threw all reservations out the window. He snarled and ripped his sleeve, mourning the loss of his perfectly good robes for like, 0.2 seconds before pointing his wand to the ceiling. 

_“Reducto!”_

The ceiling crashed in between him and Riddle, rubble falling messily and noisily. Harry wasn’t sure if it hit Riddle or not, but he wasn’t gonna risk it. Knowing Riddle, he was practically unharmed, but Harry was determined to prove to Riddle that no, if Harry was doing his best, then Riddle needed to up the ante and do his best too. He ran, ran without abandon and up the steep pile of debris, launching himself into the air and performing a back flip. 

_“Bombarda maxima!”_ Harry yelled, and Harry didn’t know if the spell hit him or not because directly after pouring all his power and determination into the spell, he found himself crashing into the floor and on his back. _Stupid Potter,_ Harry groaned in his head, shakily getting up on his elbows. When he cracked an eye open, dust was swirling around him. _Probably from the rubble,_ his mind helpfully supplied. As he clumsily got to his feet, he briefly wondered where Riddle was. A wave of pain sent him down on his knees again. 

_Ow, fuck._ Harry didn’t have long, though, his eyes widening as he heard the rustling of robes behind him. His mouth moved and he gripped his wand even tighter, but before he could cast another spell, a heavy weight was thrown at him, knocking the wind out of his lungs and Harry down on the floor

 _What in the bloody fuck?_ Harry wheezed and tried to fight the heavy weight, tried to fight _Riddle_ who had thrown himself at him. _The wanker is actually on top of me! What is this, a street fight? A boxing match? Merlin’s pants, he’s so heavy!_

“Fuck you,” Harry coughed, trying to switch their positions as Riddle’s shit-eating face loomed in front of him. The bastard had his pretty little smirk on his face, his knee jammed against Harry’s stomach warningly and his hands firmly holding his wrists down. Harry tried to lurch his hips up to throw the idiot off, but Riddle’s knee really, _really_ had him pinned to the floor. _Is this slimy git actually wrestling with the fucking Gryffindor Quidditch Captain? How fucking dare he, does he even work out?_

Yes, Harry, ask the most important questions first.

“You should eat more, you’re really too skinny.” Riddle tsked mockingly. _Fuck, I can’t throw him off, this wanker’s actually pretty strong._ Harry defiantly bared his teeth, trying to swing his legs and use his flexibility to kick Riddle in the fucking head, but the smug tosser simply edged closer, practically straddling his chest. 

Riddle eventually let go of Harry’s left arm and pointed his wand at Harry’s gut. Harry sent him a glare as Riddle disarmed him, dramatically twirling his prize in his free hand while moving his own wand upwards to point at Harry’s throat. “I think… checkmate.”

“I think… fuck you, twice over.” Harry stilled and returned Riddle’s look with his own smirk, his left hand pressing the transfigured quill into Riddle’s neck.

Who knew not writing down notes would save him in a duel? Hah. Take _that,_ Hermione.

Harry expected Riddle to drop his self-satisfied air, to sneer at him or even to lurch away from him, maybe try to knock the knife away from his hand. What he didn’t expect though, was for Tom’s smirk to dissolve slowly, a slow smile spreading across his face as he registered what Harry did. 

Bloody hell, his chest was always hurting around Riddle these days. Fuck him _thrice over_ for looking gorgeous, even if he was drenched in sweat and his hair a mess. Why couldn't Harry look that good with messy hair? Unfair.

“Five points from Gryffindor for improper language.” Professor Merrythought’s voice cut sharply through Harry’s Riddle-induced haze. Harry and Riddle turned to face the class from where they had each other at wandpoint—er, knifepoint, in Harry’s case— and Harry’s face flamed up as he took in the disbelieving faces of his classmates. Harry scowled. Most of them couldn’t see the knife Harry could easily shove in Riddle’s neck from their angle. “Twenty points to Slytherin and Gryffindor for a marvelous, beautiful duel. The first duel of the day ends in a magnificent draw.”

“A draw, Professor? Oh!” Harry heard Hermione gasp. She probably saw the glint of Harry’s blade. 

“What? Professor, Riddle clearly won, Potter’s wand is in his hand.” Greengrass said, perplexed. Well, she was standing directly in front of them, and Harry appeared to be in a rather vulnerable position beneath the older boy. He couldn’t blame her for her misjudgment. 

“Look again, Miss Greengrass. Mr. Potter has a knife up Riddle’s throat as well. Transfigured, I presume?”

“Yes, Professor.” Harry winced as his voice came out rough and shaky. God, he felt terrible. 

“Can anyone tell me, when was the exact moment that Mr. Potter transfigured a knife? Yes, Ms. Granger?” 

“Before Riddle lunged at him, he was mouthing something we couldn’t hear.” 

“Astute observation, Ms. Granger. And can anyone tell me how Mr. Riddle was able to gain the upper hand on Mr. Potter? Yes, Mr. Malfoy?”

“When Potter practically destroyed the ceiling—” _Oops._ “Tom must have realized that Potter was going to attack, and so pretended to have been hit by performing the Smokescreen Spell non-verbally and stepping away from the rubble.” 

“Excellent. Five points to Slytherin and another five points to Gryffindor. Very good on the two of you for paying much attention to the littlest of details. Mr. Riddle, kindly remove yourself from Mr. Potter and off you both go to the Hospital Wing.” Harry stubbornly refused to outwardly react when he realized that Riddle was still sitting on him. He lowered his knife and tried to use his elbows to sit up. And he still had Quidditch practice, Merlin, Fate loved to turn Harry's passions against him.

“Of course.” Riddle stared down at him, amusement dancing in his eyes. He swung his knee off of Harry and offered his hand. Harry took it, yelping as Riddle pulled Harry’s arm around his shoulder. “Lean on me, Potter. You look like you tried to jump off a cliff.”

“I feel like I did.” Harry grumbled, but didn’t struggle anymore as Riddle hauled him to his feet. “Thank you, Professor,” he muttered while Riddle inclined his head. Professor Merrythought glanced at them, pride gleaming in her eyes and an acknowledging smile on her lips. 

It wasn’t exactly approval, it was way better than that.

And Riddle was looking at him similarly, but there was something else that Harry couldn’t exactly pin down. 

All he knew was that maybe it was what Harry was looking for all along. 

“Professor, didn’t Harry land from his backflip rather weirdly?” Harry heard Ron say just before they reached the classroom door.

“I believe Mr. Riddle caught—” Riddle shut the door, and Harry’s mind was wiped clean of Ron’s comment as those grey eyes peered into his own. No, blue. Blue-grey eyes. Wow, they kinda look like marble.

“You were really good, Potter.” He complimented as he half-dragged, half-carried Harry to the Hospital Wing. Harry's stomach flipped. Fuck him for getting off the battle looking better than Harry did. "You have quite the knack for Defense."

“You too.” he hesitantly replied, looking away. His face was burning, due to Riddle’s excessive body warmth that wasn't cooling his sweaty body up at all. It was just the heat, of course. It was nearing summer after all. “You… you fight good.” he added lamely. He felt Riddle’s chest vibrate with a small chuckle. 

“Thank you.” Melting dark chocolate. Shit. 

“Where’d you get reflexes like that? Don’t think you’re the type to workout.” _Or get roped in a game of Harry Hunting._

“You wound me, Potter. You underestimate my athleticism, I have plenty of opportunities to exercise at the orphanage.” 

“Ah, that explains a bit.” Harry was a bit suspicious about what kind of “exercise” Riddle was referring to, but decided not to ask. “Your non-verbal spells are also amazing, they’re as powerful as verbal spells, I’d bet.” 

Riddle hummed as they made a turn down the hallway. “Yes, well, it’s very advantageous to be well prepared for any scenario. Even a scenario that requires silent casting. Your non-verbal spells were rather quick and surprising as well.”

“Oh yeah, your silent casting made it a lot harder to tell where the Cutting Curses were coming from. One got my shoulder and I managed to fuck it up a bit when I slipped in your water. Wait—hey, you flooded the fucking classroom! That was absolutely mental! I—”

“What?”

Riddle stopped in his tracks, making Harry stumble a bit. If it weren’t for Riddle’s hold, he’d have fallen to the floor. “I meant what I said, it’s barmy I tell you, _flooding the classroom_. Fine, you vanished it in the end but Hermione would blow a fuse if any of her school things were drenched, drying charm or no drying charm—”

“No, you idiot, you hurt your shoulder?”

Harry was spun around, wincing as Riddle’s hand gripped his bicep. Taking a peak at his bad shoulder, Harry bit back an irritated sigh. Blood was leaking from the open wound, and the bone in particular felt a little messed up. His robes were torn too, dried blood making the fabric coarse and stiff. 

_“Brackium Emendo,”_ Tom whispered. Harry flinched a bit as he felt Tom’s magic weave around his skin, before relaxing as it massaged his arm, soothing his muscles and torn skin. He felt the bone mend itself, and the pain ebb away. 

“Brilliant,” Harry breathed, looking up at Tom with wonder. “Thanks, you’re brilliant, Riddle.”

And Riddle was looking at Harry, really seeing him and giving him such a complicated stare that anything Harry could add died in his tongue. 

He cleared his throat instead, shrugging his shoulder and freezing as it cracked. He sheepishly grinned at Tom’s unimpressed frown. 

“Don’t move your shoulder too much, Harry. I’m not a Mediwizard.” Without another remark, Riddle slung Harry’s arm again around his neck, pulling him close and walking again towards the Hospital Wing. 

“Hey, you called me Harry!” 

“Yes, I did. What of it?”

Harry smiled. “I like it when my friends call me Harry instead of Potter. Can I call you Tom?”

This time, Riddle was looking straight ahead, the fingers holding Harry's wrist around his neck brushing against his knuckles as they walked. He looked a lot like he usually did, always looking ahead, stoic and unreadable. When Riddle didn't respond, Harry started panicking as he recognized the carefully blank look on his face. 

_Wait, shit, I think I just called him my friend and that's not a good thing, not at all, I'm supposed to be pushing Riddle away, not pulling him closer. Does Riddle know a spell I can use so that the ground can just swallow me up? Ah, wait, Riddle's jaw looks really good from my angle. Wait, Potter, get your shit together! You're being infected with whatever spell's got Riddle giving you miniature bouquets and giving compliments like candy on Halloween!_

Just as Harry was about to focus on walking in the least painful way possible, Tom turned his head to face Harry. 

“Of course you may.” 

Well, maybe Harry could be friends with Tom. Just friends was fine. Besides, Harry kind of liked the way he could hear Tom's heartbeat as he leaned against the taller boy.

And he kinda liked the way Tom had smiled at him while Harry shoved a blade beside his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you guys find the Mulan reference hihi c: Pfft, just friends indeed. Can't believe I wrote Riddle like this, struggling to get out of the friendzone. Poor guy.
> 
> I'll let you all think on the implications of Ron's comment by yourselves :D
> 
> If some of you noticed in the last fic, yeah, Harry calls Riddle "Tom" sometimes in his head. It's unintentional, and he never notices. :D
> 
> Also, a little explanation to Harry's awfully skewed way of thinking: he's not the boy-who-lived in this series, he's just a guy who got his parents killed by Grindelwald when he was a baby, and Dumbledore defeated him sorta like in canon. And he still got sent to the Dursleys. And none of that weird, heroic stuff happened to him in Hogwarts either, besides the occasional incident 'cuz of his canonical luck. No one really paid much attention when he entered the Wizarding World, and with a childhood like that, it's kinda hard not to be insecure. Riddle will find out soon, though. and Harry's gonna have to break out of the habit soon.
> 
> Thank you everyone who has supported me and this series! <3 I loved reading all your comments and I loved hearing from you all! It makes this quarantine a lot easier :< I'm actually not sure how this turned out, I feel like it was needlessly long and not much came out of it, so if some of you have the time and are able, may I ask for some feedback? So I can do better next time! *grin* Also, if you guys have any questions, feel free to ask them! 
> 
> I'm thankful for you guys! Please keep safe! <3


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